


Wear It For Battle

by CaptainTarthister



Series: Off Camera with Nik and Gwen [4]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Game of Thrones RPF
Genre: Absofuckinglutely not, And still reads it, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/M, I know who loves to hate this, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Smut, Woman on Top, heed the tags, i warned you, not a drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 14:20:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14875394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainTarthister/pseuds/CaptainTarthister
Summary: Gwendoline and Nikolaj try on unicorn t-shirts for her fundraiser.You know what they do next!****Another RPF no one asked for! And you-know-who hates, lol.





	Wear It For Battle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SeleneU](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeleneU/gifts).



> For SeleneU, thanks for everything. Really. I'm with you!
> 
> ****  
> To those who will still read this despite the warnings: 
> 
> THIS IS A GWEN/NIK RPF. You don't like RPF then DON'T fucking read it!
> 
> First, it's a waste of time for you. I believe that there's a better use of time than inciting hate. Like, I don't know, learning to write better stories. Or volunteering at an animal shelter. Maybe yoga. Oh, and yeah, sex! A job! Look for one!
> 
> Second, according to research, you use more facial muscles when you frown. Why would you frown? Because you're reading something you don' like! That means more wrinkles. Or early appearance of wrinkles. There's only so much Creme de la Mer can do. 
> 
> So, for the last time, turn around and walk away. 
> 
> ****
> 
> To those reading this because they love Gwen/Nik RPF fics or are just curious, THANK YOU AND WELCOME TO YOU!

 

_Oathkeeper slashed high into the air, the swoosh a breath of life in the moving, constricted circle of the dead growing in allies and pieces. Ghostly blue eyes stared dully at Brienne as the blade swung toward his neck, the descent also taking its comrades head before they fell in a pile of bones and powder, gray against the blood-stained snow._

_She took a moment, only a moment, to catch her breath when she felt the heavy gust of air next to her followed by another of the undead falling next to her. She screamed and stabbed its writhing form in the throat of torn flesh and cracked bone._

_“Gods damn it, Brienne!” Jaime yelled at her as he heaved her up with a grunt. Angry emerald eyes bored into her. “This is not the time for rest!”_

_“I’m sorry!” She shouted back, flushing and also angry. She knew. But Jaime had already turned away from her, slashing Widow’s Wail at their enemies. She took her position back in the circle and resumed fighting._

_Swing, swing, slash, attack, attack. Swing, swing, step back, jump to the right, stab. This was no practice yard back in Tarth, where the challenger was one and was sure to end up on his ass rather than dead and evil. Her blue eyes shone as she killed and dismembered the army of the dead. They were going to win. They will see spring—_

 

“Oh my God,” Gwendoline groaned, turning away from the screen and covering her eyes. “I absolutely detest this part!”

  
The sofa squeaked as she hurriedly buried her face against Nikolaj’s chest, feeling it rumble from his quiet laughter at her reaction. She’d pinch him but watching Jaime was still hard to watch despite seeing the episode several times already.  
A soft, muffled sound of anguish dropped from her lips as Jaime screamed. Nikolaj kissed her on the forehead and hugged her. She burrowed herself as deeply as possible against him, desperate for comfort like a kitten seeking warmth in winter.

“You know,” he murmured, stroking her hair and throwing his leg over hers. She tried shutting out Brienne’s whispers to Jaime that he will live. They shot that scene ten times and each time shredded her heart. “We can always watch something else.”

 

She felt him moving, fumbling for the remote that would bring blessed silence. Sandor was yelling at her for being an idiot and Nikolaj mercifully turned off the TV just then. Sighing in relief, she kissed him on the neck and picked up her head from his chest. Her blue eyes were film and a little bloodshot from squeezing them shut.

Nikolaj smiled at her, the light in his eyes a gentle glimmer. She loved watching those deep, twin dimples emerge, framing his self-assured, playful grin. She sniffed but the tightness in her chest was beginning to ease. He knew when to draw her back from being too invested.

 

“Or just stay like this,” she suggested, caressing his smooth jaw. He’d shaved it smooth as well as gotten a new trim that tamed the fullness of his hair. He was dressed in a faded gray t-shirt and threadbare navy track pants, and as a joke, put on her thick bright pink socks. Still, he looked as good as any man in a tux.

 

“Hmm.” He pretended to think it over. “Okay.”

 

She glanced at the black mirror of the TV screen. “I can’t believe all Jaime and Brienne got was that scene. Too cruel.”

 

“Yeah, but they said it follows George’s plans to kill Jaime,”  he said, shrugging. “The writers have made it clear from the start they’ll bring Point A to Point B as intended in the books, but with their own spin.”

 

“It’s so unfair,” she complained. “Jaime stuck aroun with Cersei much longer than in the books.”

 

“Sweetheart, are we going to keep complaining how they massacred Jaime and his romance with Brienne when _we_ have the real thing?”

 

“Oh,” she pretended to understand just now and he chuckled. “Oh, yeah. I forgot.”

 

She giggled and gently fisted the collar of his shirt to pull him close for a kiss. He still tasted of coffee and the grilled cheese sandwich she made for them at lunch. He slanted his mouth over hers, their bodies moving smoothly to accommodate each other. Nikolay lay half on top of her, nibbling at her lips as she ran a hand down his back until she could slide her hand under the t-shirt.

 

He sighed against her mouth between resuming their kiss, this time more urgent. Long, passionate kisses were reasons enough to stay home even on a rarely sunny Friday afternoon. Plus, they’d hardly spent time together in their new Clapham place.

 

Well, it wasn’t exactly new. They had been living in it for a year yet the five-bedroom, semi-detached Victorian family home was still very much a work in progress. Nikolaj estimated that with their projects keeping them away from it, and from each other, it would take them two years to make this into a home. Gwendoline teased the two years were only possible if they hired a decorator, which he felt was an unnecessary expense. Thus, they were doing it by themselves: yellow sticky notes on architecture and design magazines, furniture-shopping whenever they could snatch some little time and arguing about his preference for modern, comfortable pieces and her leanings toward cozy, French provincial with a dash of whimsy.

 

“Nikolaj,” she breathed huskily as he kissed down her neck, eager hands pushing her sweater toward her neck. He shoved her camisole next to bare the tight peaks of her pink nipples. She shivered from the gentle whisper of the central AC over her tits. He was quick to warm them with licks and kisses, soft growls lacing his feast.

 

“How do you smell so fucking great when you haven’t had a shower since yesterday?” He asked in between licking her nipple. She glared and gave him a teeny smack on the head.

 

“I had one this morning!”

 

“Oh.” He grinned, unapologetic and turning her into a mess of mush and goosebumps. “You probably missed a spot,” he added, nuzzling her tits and breathing deeply. He kissed one of the soft mounds. Warm hands cupped them possessively as he flicked a tongue on a puckered nipple.

 

She burst out laughing and he trailed kisses up her throat before capturing her mouth again. She moaned, wrapping arms and legs around him. The rough cloth of his t-shirt was a delicious abrasion on her swollen, wet nipples. He put a hand on her hip and she lowered her legs. He was hard, she could feel him. Had been feeling him before they started kissing earlier. Panting against his tongue, she helped him push her leggings down, ripped her mouth from him to see his cock as she loosened the drawstrings of his pants.

 

“Touch me,” Nikolaj grunted, grabbing her hand so she would squeeze his cock. She obeyed, groaning at the feel of his thick, warm length on her palm. Blue eyes blazed into each other as she rubbed him, keeping her grip firm and the motions gentle. He slammed his palm hard on the pillow next to her and she didn’t relent in her sweet assault, nor did she blink.

 

“Now?” She begged.

 

_“Now.”_

 

 She grinned, kicking off the rest of her leggings, laughing as he suddenly sat up to help her. He tossed her pants on the floor, chuckling as he wiggled his hips a little in imitation of an exotic male dancer. She held out her arms, eager to hold him, _have him_. He winked, pulled his pants down and took his cock in hand.

 

Then the buzzer sounded.

 

They froze, eyes widening. Her eyes narrowed as Nikolaj growled at the door and removed himself from the couch. She would laugh at him struggling to push his erect cock  back in his pants but she was too pissed. Sighing, she took her leggings from the floor as he shuffled to the archway that led to the front door.

 

“Who is it?” He demanded.

 

“It’s FedEx, sir,” someone answered. “For Ms. Gwendoline Christie.”

 

“From?” Nikolaj’s tone lost its aggressive edge but she knew he was still annoyed. She pulled up her leggings and went to him.

 

“Independent Talent.”

 

He knew her agency and so opened the door to sign for the package. Gwendoline leaned against the wall, watching him thank the delivery guy as he was given the box. He closed the door, carrying the flat box on his side.

 

“Seems too big for a script,” he remarked, putting it on the round, marble table that in the foyer.

 

“Well, I’m a giant,” she said before briefly ducking in the study to retrieve some scissors and a cutter. Nikolaj was still standing by the table when she returned. He took the tools from her and set about slicing through all the protective packaging before reaching inside to get an even bulkier package. He still looked tensed from their interrupted encounter. His erection, threatening to poke a hole through his pants, was no help. She sighed wistfully. With the package at last unveiled, he showed it to her. "Hey, it's from Kiducate."

 

She squealed upon seeing the logo. “This has got to be the t-shirts for the fundraiser!” She took the cutter from him and slashed through the tape and other wrappings.

 

Recently, she had gotten involved in Kiducate, a U.K.-based charity organization that provided financial and educational assistance to children in remote and sometimes war-torn areas in the world. She’d realized it wasn’t enough to keep arguing for questioning and subverting female stereotypes. She had to walk the talk. So, she got in touch with Kiducate and began volunteering. Little girls from everywhere in the world must be made aware of the female stereotypes they had to break, and be encouraged to carve out their own identities without fear.

 

It was easy getting her friends to sign on and volunteer but Nikolaj was the most encouraging. He not only wrote a generous check for the first fundraiser she joined, which was for a feeding program in support of the local government in a province in Bangladesh. He also joined her in others. They capitalized on their fame from Game of Thrones, which meant more publicity for Kiducate. She preferred the simpler approach to fundraising, which involved selling things and going around telling people about the organization. Black-tie events were fun--she loved dressing up. But as Nikolaj had shown her, it was more helpful if she was actually on the ground working with the organization, not just some sort of figurehead. 

 

It didn’t take long to see why he enjoyed his work with the U.N. Fame opened doors for her but it also opened opportunities for whom there weren’t a lot of possiblities before. It was wonderful being able to help like that. She and her agent were on the hunt for someone to design an official website for her, where they would also provide a link to information about Kiducate, as well as how to donate or volunteer.

 

“What fundraiser?” Nikolaj asked as she wrestled with the last of the packaging. She flipped the box open and clapped her hands.

 

“I knew it!”

 

Happily, she pulled out a white roundneck tee with a bright blue unicorn print. “We’re raising funds to build simple but functional toilets in a girls’ school in a province in Eritrea. I introduced my friend Giles to Kiducate and he volunteered to design a t-shirt to help bring in the money.” Holding it against herself, she beamed at Nikolaj. “What do you think?”

 

He crossed his arms and furrowed his brow at it exaggeratedly. Affecting a stern expression, he said in a band French accent, “Eet suffices, maybe?”

 

“Oh, you. I’m going to try it on.” She took the other t-shirt from the box and handed it to him. “You have one too.”

 

She went back to the living room, leaving him behind to examine the tee. Gwendoline was giddy as she looked at the t-shirt again. She had been the one to suggest to Giles Deacon to come up with a simple but playful design. Her friend loved art but sometimes he veered too much into abstract and experimental territory.

 

Her sweater and camisole were pulled off and she tugged the t-shirt down her neck, slipping her hands through the sleeves. She straightened it, loving how it fit her perfectly, when Nikolaj cleared his throat from behind.

 

She turned and guffawed. He was wearing his unicorn shirt!

 

“So, what do you think?” He asked, pretending to strut like a model before standing right before her. He gave a little turn before bursting into a grin. “Will GQ be calling?”

 

“Not just GQ,” she said, cupping his jaw in her hands and kissing him sweetly on the lips. “You look adorable.”

 

“All my life women have called me sexy and handsome but all I’ve wanted is to thought as adorable,” he teased, kissing her back.

 

“What do you think?” She asked, reluctantly letting him go to turn around too. When she faced him again, he was frowning but the shine in his eyes told her of mischief. He stroked his jaw thoughtfully. “Do you think people will love it enough to buy?”

 

“Hmm. Almost absolutely.”

 

“Almost absolutely?”

 

He grinned. “If you would permit me to make one significant change, sweetheart?”

 

“Be my guest.”

 

She should have known what he was going to do. By the time she realized it, her leggings were at her ankles. Nikolaj’s expression told her he was going to do something bad and she was going to fucking love it. She was panting a little against his lips when he stepped close, his hand cupping her cunt. He kissed her hard, hungrily, catching her in his arms then returning his hand between her slickening thighs. A hard finger thrust inside her cunt and she immediately squeezed around it, biting him on the lower lip in her excitement. He chuckled and fucked her some more before tugging at her hair. 

 

“Sit down, Gwen.”

 

She licked her lips and sat down, making herself comfortable. Nikolaj knelt before her, his eyes dark with lust. Her heart banged swift and hard in her chest as she raised her legs, planting her feet on the edge of the couch.

 

They held each other’s gaze for a moment, he drinking in the flush of her cheeks, her the sweat gleaming from the side of his neck. He stared at her for a second longer before lowering his head between her legs.

 

His hands clamped on the insides of her thighs, spreading her wider until a cool column of air ruffled the sticky cluster of curls surrounding her cunt. The warm gust of his breath followed, drawing a soft whimper of anticipation and need from her throat.

 

Then he pressed his head to her cunt and licked.

 

Her head slammed against the couch as his tongue lashed at her clit. Circling, quick licks that made her squirm. Wet, loud slurps on the stiff nub that would have pulled her thighs closed if not for his head and shoulders between them. His lips and tongue were a tickle and a burn, acute and felt right to her core.

 

She pawed for something to hold on to because she could feel her soul ready to part from her body. Her hand grasped on something hard, with a raised surface. The remote. As her fingers clawed at the buttons, her half-closed saw the TV flick back on.

 

Nikolaj thrust his tongue inside her cunt, fucking her with swift, gentle thrusts that made her whine and her hips roll. As her head turned from side to side, the TV showed scenes being rewound. She bit her lips, fist pressing hard on the remote.

 

The rewound stopped and her eyes, hazy from desire, stared at Nikolaj’s face on the screen. It was the night before the battle. Their characters were talking, their faces barely illuminated by the campfire.

 

_“We will never be on opposite sides of the battle,” he said. “But together.”_

_“Ser Jaime—” she said hesitantly._

_He smirked. “Yes, Lady Brienne?”_

_“I—I will shield your back. And give my life for yours if need be.”_

_Jaime stared hard at her, and his hand rose as if to touch her before suddenly lowering it. His face was grave. “My life is yours, Lady Brienne. Until the end of my days.”_

She turned away from the screen, its sounds and scenes quick to recede as she watched Nikolaj hungrily devouring her cunt.

 

“Oh, God. _Nikolaj_ ,” his name was a broken sob of want, of her heart. Her hands grabbed at his t-shirt, using it to drag him from the delicious torture of her cunt. But she was weak, her body heavy from the almost-release. His lips detoured to her tits, kissing them through the t-shirt, wetting the cloth until it adhered to her nipple and he could suck. Slender fingers threaded through his thick hair, her legs wrapping around his back even as he freed himself from his pants.

 

“Do you want me?” He rasped, raising his head from her chest to look into her eyes. His cock brushed her cunt, slick with her moisture and wet with his saliva.

 

She nodded. He kissed her hard on the mouth, gathering her in his arms. She clung to him, kissing him and sucking her taste from his lips, his tongue, as he turned to lay her on her back.

 

The blue unicorn on his t-shirt was a blur as he grabbed her legs with a roughness that made her gasp and arch. His cock rammed into her cunt in one thrust, causing her to cry out, his mouth suddenly on her and muffling it. The cotton of her t-shirt rustled against the linen of the couch as he fucked her. She grasped at the collar of his shirt, and in her desperation to touch his skin, ripped it, loosening it from his neck so she could slip a hand through.

 

She heard the sounds of battle from the screen, the cries from the actors and the clang of prop swords as their own battle commenced on the couch, their weapons tongue and mouth, hands, his cock, her cunt. She turned away from his kiss, closing her eyes as her pleasure spiked with every deepening thrust inside her. But he wouldn’t let her away from him for too long, his hand taking her by the jaw to turn her back to him to feast on her soft, pliant mouth.

 

“God damn it, _Gwen_ ,” Nikolaj suddenly swore against her tongue. “I’m close.”

 

“Take me with you,” she begged.

 

“Switch,” he grunted.

 

_“Yes.”_

 

He swore against and she was pleased that he didn’t like having to stop but they had to. He sat down heavily on the sofa, squinting at the screen at the continuing battle before shifting his focus on her. She straddled him. He grabbed her by the hips, slamming her down his cock. She shrieked as her slippery cunt swallowed him in one go.

 

She fucked herself on his cock, one hand on top of the couch and the other on his chest. They stared hard at each other, broken only intermittent but hungry kisses. His hands guided her up and down, the pace insanely fast and far, far from gentle. Several times she feared he would get stuck in her. He was big but in their current position, he felt so much more and touched her deeper and deeper.

 

She felt like she was going to die. And reborn.

 

Her heart was pounding a thousand beats a minute when she felt herself fly. She squeaked, her cunt tightening mercilessly around his cock. Nikolaj shouted her name, just as Jaime screamed from the screen.

 

Nikolaj clung to her, stilling her hips as he fucked her hard through their release. Three more thrusts and he grunted, collapsing wearily on the couch. She sighed and dropped her head on his shoulder, her hand on his chest. Each felt the matching, fast rhythm of the other’s heart.

 

She slowly set herself away from him, smiling at his protesting groan and the quick, possessive clutch of his hands on her hips. He smiled drunkenly at her and she glanced back at the television.

 

It was the scene back in Winterfell.  Brienne was screaming, demanding to be let through the doors so she could get Jaime’s body from the field. Sandor and Tormund were trying to stop her. Behind her were some of the fallen bodies of the soldiers she’d fought to get to Jaime, including Podrick and Bronn.

 

Nikolaj followed her gaze and smirked. “That’s the first time you’re not crying, Gwen.”

 

She hummed and kissed him. Though a little worn out from their fucking, her kiss was still heated. “I think we just discovered how I can get through watching it.”

 

Nikolaj took her hand, turned it to press a kiss on the palm. “Lie down. Let’s watch the rest of it.”

 

They stretched out on the couch. Gwen sighed happily as Nikolaj spooned behind her. His hand slipped under her t-shirt to play with her tits.

 

“You should tell Giles it’s not only money his t-shirt raised,” he said, tugging at her swollen nipple gently.

 

She groaned from his play. “I don’t think that’s information he’d appreciate.”

 

“Just between us, then.” He whispered.

 

“Yeah,” she agreed, leaning against him. She pressed his hand more firmly against her tit and felt him grin in approval. “Just between us. Now shush and let’s just watch.”

 

“Love it when you tell me to shut up.” She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing she felt him hardening against her.

 

“Hush.”

 

He cupped her tits and sighed heavily against her nape. “Love it that you’re so focused.”

 

“Hmm.” She fought to keep her eyes open as he caressed her breasts. But her feet arched in pleasure and a soft hum left her lips.

 

“I love you, Gwen.”

 

She turned away from the scene of Brienne’s heartbroken face at her failure to retrieve Jaime’s body.

 

Smiling, she pulled the remote from under her hip and made a big show of flicking off the television. Nikolaj chuckled as she rolled, pinning him under her.

 

“Actions speak louder than words, is my belief,” she murmured, kissing him briefly on the lips. Then, her eyes bright, she moved down his body. “Let me show how much I love you.”

 

Disappointing as it was that Jaime and Brienne never saw any fulfilment of their promised romance, the role led her to someone so amazing in her life.

 

And it was the real thing.

 

Fiction would always be an exploration of tragedies and hope. But there was always the last page, the period sealing every character’s fate for good. Whatever discussion came along, there was no way to change the ending.

 

In real life, there was no end. She could say that now.

 

She smiled at Nikolaj, feeling warm from the love radiating from his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. THANK YOU FOR READING!
> 
> 2\. Kiducate is of course, fictional.
> 
> 3\. This fic was inspired by the t-shirts Giles Deacon designed.
> 
> 4\. Gwen and Nik are not involved nor married to anyone in this RPF world. Just to make it clear. 
> 
> 5\. If you hate Gwen/Nik RPF and still read this despite my warnings, you're more than welcome to stew in your stinky vat of hate and loathing.


End file.
